we're on the other side!

you guys! we're on the other side - of the solstice and of the busy blur that is christmas - well into that fallow week between christmas and the new year. the days all blur together, though i did work on tuesday. was that only yesterday? it's that time when you look back on the year that's passed and look ahead to the coming year. 

so far, i've fallen for an ad for a free year of the balance app, so i just did a 3 minute meditation. or rather, i started it and then remembered that the header of the pages i published earlier was wrong in the way it came in from translation and so i ran to the computer and fixed it and republished during the 3 minutes. so much for meditating. at least the app is free for a year! and here's to starting somewhere. 

we're all feeling a bit under the weather. i think it's the grey, dreary, rainy weather, plus excesses of food and drink, late night card games and not enough rest or time alone. sabs and i just took some nyquil and we're headed for bed early because tomorrow we've got a  a long agenda. husband's picking up a spinning bike, then we're visiting a museum and doing a bit of shopping in aarhus before sabs meets her friends from boarding school for dinner. we'll go to dinner and maybe a movie ourselves while we wait for her. 

she's headed back to her life in sunny arizona very early on the 31st. she'll make it in time to ring in the new year with friends. her visit felt short, but it doesn't seem so bad, because she's coming home again in march for spring break with a couple of friends, so it's not that far off. we're finding the impending visit motivating, as we want to have the new bathroom and a bedroom ready for them. 

i know that on sunday, i'll feel like this in-between liminal week went way too fast, but for now, i'm just taking as it comes. and watching way too much real housewives of beverly hills on hayu...speaking of other instagram ads i've fallen for in recent days (49kr for 3 months of hayu - real housewives all the time!).

zen koan inspiration

the friend i stayed with in arizona had a small collection of amazing little zen koan 'zines from the 70s. they were done by paul reps. on the front, it says you can send away for a bag with all six for $3. they were so amazing, i had to photograph them.  i had vaguely heard of zen koans, but never worked with them, what with my inability to meditate properly and all. i can see the attraction - an enigmatic phrase to ponder in silence, what could be better?  i have a couple that have always stuck with me, though they are not official buddhist zen koans, i think they have a koanesque quality. one is a quote from the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy: "reality is frequently inaccurate." and from my favorite 20th century russian author, andrei bitov, "unreality is a condition of life." funny, i think they're related. maybe when i try the 15 minutes of meditation tomorrow morning (for the sake of my brain), i'll ponder those. i also feel inspired by paul reps' art, to dig out a typewriter, work with them and a little bit of payne's grey. do you have a personal zen koan (maybe you didn't even know it was one) you ponder when you have a moment of stillness?

morning rituals

i read this morning that 15 minutes of meditation a day can have a great effect on the brain. and i'm thinking, i want my 50ish-year-old brain to operate like a 25-year-old one, as far as the functioning of the old grey matter is concerned. i don't recall searching for words at 25, so yes, bring that on. and it got me thinking about my morning ritual. it mostly consists of picking up my phone to see what madness the spray-tanned buffoon came up with overnight. i normally watch colbert and trevor to get their take on it - i find it hard to take it directly, i need it filtered through intelligent humor. then i turn off my sleep cycle app. then i get up, pretty much making the bed as i get out of it. i'm a bed maker, i think it's the one small ritual that sets the tone for your day. if you leave a neatly-made bed, there's a good chance of less chaos in the day that stretches ahead, even if the cats come along and lay on it during the day, leaving little hollows here and there. our cat bob won't lie on the bed unless it's made and if it's not, he'll come along and stare disdainfully until you make it. and i always make the bed.

next, i make a cup of tea. if it's the weekend, i'll make a pot, or rather husband makes a pot and brings me the first cup of tea in bed. that's a ritual that i love. but things sort of fizzle out from there. i sit down in front of the computer, checking mails, reading articles and blogs, fiddling around on pinterest, maybe writing a blog post like this one. mostly wasting time, if i'm honest. lately, i have australian master chef playing in the background, so i'm also half pondering what's for dinner later in the day (hmm, can i get squid somewhere nearby?).

i'm not sure any of these rituals are helping my brain very much, nor are they getting me regular exercise or making me more organized or helping me figure out what's next.

and speaking of my quest to figure out what's next, i've undertaken a major clearing out in our "box room," where we stashed all the boxes of books and stuff we didn't have room/shelves for when we moved here nearly a decade ago. i'm ruthlessly tossing lots of things that we haven't missed, but admittedly i probably should be even more ruthless about it. i'm hoping having that room more organized will create space in my brain for better habits that move me forward. so i guess i'd better get cracking. but first, maybe 15 minutes of meditation?

a day of nothing much at all

it's that time of year again. the rapeseed fields are in full, buzzing bloom. it's that yellow that makes you feel a bit dizzy if you look at it directly. they speak the language of danish summer. short, fleeting, but intense.

today was filled with slow tasks. picking violets to make violet cordial. getting enough of them takes time and there's no way around it, you just have to pick them, one at a time. it was cloudy, but still and warm, so picking them was a pleasant, rather meditative task. it worked rather nicely to clear my mind and funnily enough, i didn't really think about anything at all in particular. some days, that's precisely what you need.

it's a colorful life

at least one small corner of my life is now organized. and isn't it pretty? a rather meditative activity for a cloudy saturday, watching back-to-back episodes of QI and dr. who (thank odin for the BBC). hope your weekend is colorful too.

weeding as a metaphor for life

tuscan kale and blue viking wellies

i haven't been weeding enough in the garden. i blame that i wasn't sure which bits were weeds and which were the actual plants i had planted. and with all of the rain lately, it's gotten a bit out of hand. on the bright side, it's a bit easier to tell the plants that should be there from the ones that shouldn't (the ones that shouldn't are WAY ahead). so we spent some time weeding late this afternoon.

there's some kind of strange peace in weeding. you can immediately see the results of your work. there is a sense of progress (as long as you don't look up or look around when your garden is as large as ours). it feels wholesome. and there's simply no way around it, you just have to do it. one weed at a time.

if i'd been able to stop talking to husband while i was weeding (i could feel that he wished i'd shut up, but still i talked), it would have been quite meditative. i'm going to try that kind of meditation in the near future. productive meditation. getting something done while meditating, that can only be good.

i found it very peaceful. and there's plenty to do tomorrow.

i've vowed that i'll spend at least an hour weeding every day. it could be that weeding in my garden will weed some of the other unwanted things from my life in general. like procrastination. and lack of focus. because when you're weeding, you have to focus - you focus on what needs to be there and what doesn't.

it might very well be that weeding is a metaphor for life.

erik is alive!

remember last june when we painted on some innocent vinbjerg snails in the garden? i named mine erik, since i had painted a little viking helleristning on it. well, until today, i never saw those snails again, but today, there was little erik, making his way around the garden, about 5 meters from where i had originally found him and painted on him.

i was so excited, i ran into the house to tell husband, but he looked at me bemusedly and waved me off. i don't know why he didn't think it was exciting that erik was not only fine, but had survived the winter and everything!

in light of my continuing inability to actually sit quietly and meditate, i decided to pick violets and make a batch, not of the jelly, but of violet cordial (i invent a new cocktail every year, you know).

it takes nearly an hour to fill this jar with violets. violets are small. which is why it's a meditative activity. it's also an activity you just have to do. there are no shortcuts. you have to find them and pick them all, one by one. it's good for your soul, i tell you.

i had to go all the way down to the lake (there are lots of violets out in our pasture) to gather enough. and when i was done, i felt totally calm and zen. just like they say you do after meditating.

and i also found this 5-leaf clover. which has to be even more lucky than a 4-leaf one, doesn't it?

and now i'm off to play with these beauties (heather moore's fabulous cut out & keep for cloud 9). the colors are so much better in real life than they look in photos. and super soft and wonderful.